The Whittler
by StoryKiller14
Summary: *SPOILER ALERT* A twist and extension on the season 8 finale. After Sam cured Crowley, something went wrong. Had he been deceived by the scribe? He doesn't know. All he dose know is that he has to do something, something big for God now that he has become purified. Rated M for descriptive gore and some strange thinking.


~March 12, 2013 9:04 P.M.~

The night was already becoming slow and we had only just started out first date. What was her name again? I can hardly remember when I look into her face. Oh she really did have such a distracting face. Those stunning brown eyes with little flake surrounding the center along with a darker rim around the cornea. They sparkled in my dimly lit studio apartment. Her soft, wavy brown hair flew in the waft coming from the air conditioning unit. Oh she was almost too beautiful! She was slim, but not too slim. She had a healthy weight and a creative tall but curved face. Jacqueline, that was her name. Such a beautiful name too.

She sighed and wiped away a nervous little tear that escaped her eye. I guess that she was slightly optimistic about date night After offering me a nervous laugh in an attempt to make me forget. I chuckled as I split my lobster open. The steam rose and increased my hunger pains, so I began to dive in but noticed how much Jacqueline was shaking as she tried to pry open the lobster. I walked around the wooden table to lead her hands drag the table knife into the sea creature. I suppose I grabbed her hand a little too hard since she let out a nervous cry when I grasped her hand. I'd never seen a girl get so nervous on a casual date before, but I suppose that only meant she worried about being a boring date. Humbleness. Even that added on to her purity.

I shuffled back to my seat awkwardly and decided to open conversation. "Do you like lobster?" I asked as I brushed back my hair. I suppose she was too nervous to answer so she just replied with a quick, yet nervous, nod of the head. I wondered why she was full of so much fear on a lousy first date. Maybe it was slightly inappropriate to arrange our first date in my motel room. I'll have to remember that next time.

"Why don't you take a bite out of it," I suggested. She quickly looked up at me and then back down at the plate that sat before her. Hmmm, I think she is a little too nervous for my taste, but I have always tried to be one for second chances, I think...My brother would most definitely disagree.

Jacqueline finally decided to take a bite of her lobster. She gently placed her silverware inside of it and stuck a tiny bit of it onto her fork. Ever so slowly the tiny bit of flesh rose to her teeth. I guess that she must have lied earlier about liking lobster since she hesitated so much before placing it in her mouth. She chewed and offered me yet another humble, yet nervous, smile. I smiled back. I guess I had somehow made the wrong move. A tiny line of sweat was accumulating on the top of her brow.

I decided it was time to move to the next section of the night. I hoisted myself up and took our dishes to the kitchen sink. Jacqueline sat very quietly at her chair and watched me clean the dishes. She seemed a little sloth like the way she watched me. Most women would probably offer to help a man do the dishes, but with my small experience around women, I wouldn't really know. Jacqueline looked out the small window above the air conditioner and seemed to feel envy towards all of the people who _weren't_ in my apartment. I had to lobby to try and change that.

"Do you know how to dance?" I asked.

She stared at me with a fatal fear in her eyes. So I took it as a no.

"You know, Jacqueline, a _really_ long time ago my father found the time to teach me how to dance if I would ever need to, and I could help teach you to dance. How 'bout the waltz for a start?" Again, she only gave me a blank stare. I sighed and approached her. She watched my every move closely as I helped her out of the small chair. Her hand was cold and chilled on my skin. She was still shaky with all the adrenaline running through her fragile body somehow. I had planned tonight out before and things were running nicely in my perspective, so I just didn't understand the fear in her eyes, did I really need a haircut that bad or something? With that look on her face I was surprised that she hadn't screamed yet. Most women showed great amount of fear towards me if they had seen the news before, but Jacqueline was different, she seemed to only be shy! Her dancing abilities would help tell if she could adapt to different situations in the future though.

"The waltz is actually pretty easy... Just trust me," I ensured as I began to play bloody Beethoven off my computer. "Follow my lead"

"To start, we just go up and down then side to side," I explained. She caught on quickly so I went to the next step. "Here is a tricky part, the box comes next. Just step, slide, step like so." Again she caught on quickly but the sweat on her hands was accumulating as she drifted closer and closer to me. She seemed to be extremely uncomfortable and I could tell, but the dance was nearly done and I had to show her how to finish it. We began to do the final circles but she was incapable of doing so. I shuddered as she bruised my toes.

"Maybe something else like the salsa," I offered. She looked at me with so much fear in her eyes I couldn't believe it. How did my brother do this? She kicked me in the shins and ran for the door to find it locked. "Oh no honey, I'll let you out soon enough," I waited, but my patience was ineffective. I suppose she wasn't a sloth though by observing the way she threw herself on the door.

It looked as though she would work for my project. I snuck up behind her and sank the fingers of my right hand into her right shoulder and covered her mouth with my left to muffle the screams. I also covered her nose to panic her respiratory system along with cutting off some air to prevent further screams. I then strapped her to the chair she used during dinner. She tried to scream but I strategically covered her mouth with duct tape and taped her arms to the arm rests along with her feet to the chair legs. The way she squirmed was incredible. The veins in her body began to bulge near the tape due to lack of circulation, planting more panic into her. She tried to kick me but it was useless. Anything can be fixed with duct tape.

"I am so impressed with you," I began, "the last three girls I brought in started screaming from the start, but you... You were just so quiet." I stared at her with intrigue. She began to cry and pleaded through her eyes. She kicked her chair over in frustration. Silly girl. I taped the feet of the chair down too.

"Quiet," I hushed, "the neighbors will hear you." I quickly ran to my kitchen and pulled my kit out from under my sink. The little red box my father used to hide was so old and rusted. The words 'TOOL BOX' were faded away now but I scratched them back roughly a year ago. I approached her with the tool box and Jacqueline's screams turned to cries of fear with tears finding their way down her distracting face. Her hair became incredibly wet and salty from the sweat. I sat down across from her and placed my kit on the kitchen table. "I'm so sorry Jacqueline, but this is going to hurt a little bit," I ensured. I pulled out

She screamed as I began to dig my knife of the Kurds into her face above her eyebrow. The skin peeled back and showed her skull beneath it, proving she wasn't possessed by a demon though, that was good. Her blood was a beautiful dark shade of velvet red and it just oozed out of her head beautifully. I gave her a dark looking bat-like figure on her forehead and then brought my knife down to her cheeks. I put two semi-circles on her cheeks that faced forward. I wasn't pleased with my work though. She attempted to scream in pain and I felt a tiny tinged for sorrow for her in the back of my head. I shook it out and dug my knife underneath her chin and let the flesh peel itself back. It really was beautiful how the skin would peel off a face. It left me with a feeling of joy while I looked at the beginning of my masterpiece. I know how Michelangelo must have felt as he put his chisel into a fresh boulder of granite.

The blood just covered Jacqueline's face and stained her skin. It was a shame too. Her skin was so pale and beautiful. I couldn't let that get ruined. I dug my knife through her throat and made sure to sever the major blood arteries and small veins that fed her and watched her body begin to shut down. First she stopped breathing and the tears stopped running down her face. The blood stopped traveling to her head and finally came to a stop. Her head rolled back and lay limp along with the rest of her. At least the blood stopped pumping itself out.

I propped her head up with a wrench I found in my kit and dabbed the blood off her pale face with a handkerchief I kept in my box. Her face began to turn a much more beautiful pale without the blood running through it. There was still such a beauty in her eyes even as they stared into space. I looked into them with curiosity and wondered if she was maybe still in there or if she had left this realm.

I couldn't stand the thought of the dead body staring at me. I brought my knife to her eyes and gauged them out. Her beautiful eyes now lay on a napkin but stared at the ceiling this time instead of me. Much better.

Without her staring at me I predicted that i would be able to finish my work within two hours. I began with some basic setup. I took off all the tape and pulled out some chains that I kept under my bed. I drilled a gaping hole in the ceiling and chained her up by her wrists. Her toes ended up roughly four inches from the painting tarp I laid on the floor. I also placed two plastic buckets beneath them and severed her useless feet to allow the rest of the blood to escape. I then sat in silence for roughly ten minutes to check for sirens and to plan how I would use this canvas.

To begin, I brought a wooden ladder to her hands. I began to run my knife down her palms and basically drew out where her skeletal bones were which all came together at the wrists under the chains. I glazed my knife down the inside of her arm in an ark over her muscles and mirrored it. I peeled back the skin and tore out here sad muscles. They were quite tender and were still warm since she had only left ten minutes ago. Speaking of time... 9:48. So she died around 9:47ish. I'm sure the police will let out a more exact time though.

With her arms finished I ripped the rest of her clothing off and allowed them to join the bucket of doom. Not as beautiful of a canvas as I had hoped for. Jacqueline had obviously been working out at the gym for a shapers preference but it wasn't turning out so well. I immediately carved a circle around her abdomen and pulled my knife in between each muscle. Opps, I didn't account for the intestines. No biggy, the bucket was till only one fourth of the way full.

In her back I ran two long lines down her spine and peeled the skin back. I also made two other lines further away from the spine which exposed her main arteries and nervous system. I severed those out and added them to my bucket along with the other small muscles the back contains leaving a direct path to her ribs and behind that her lungs. There was a small about of skin still tethered to her spine so I climbed up my ladder, grabbed the top of the skin near her neck, and jumped down to the ground tearing most of it off. The skin that I hadn't pulled off was already beginning to peel back. The skin that once was connected to her back peeled all the way to her shoulder blades and even a little past that. Perfect.

Her legs were a different story. I had previously decided that I had wanted to hang her to the ceiling with chains on her arms. So I had to leave the bones in the arms but not the legs. I first made two cuts, one on each side of her leg. I severed the joints, sawed out the cartridge, and yanked out the bones. I stared at them. Her toe bones were worthless but the others were so, divine. I took out my chisel and drew random little symbols into them. Some from TV, some from books, others from the internet. The police will have fun pretending to know what it is that they _really_ mean.

The final copy of Jacqueline's renewed body turned out just how I wanted it to. She hung by her wrists which were bound by chains. Her finger opened up and the slits on her arms lead down her body and went everywhere. It looked as though Arcane had made a web down her body and its web was blown by the wind. Jacqueline almost looked as though she was a goddess. Her legs I cut open and the flesh dangled from her bare muscles like a beautiful fountain. Everything came together wonderfully. Only now was she ready. I threw salt and lamb's blood beneath her feet along with half a gallon of gasoline. I set up a small device with string and a candle that would ignite the oil in roughly thirty minutes or less. My sacrifice was prepared. I covered my face and left the area.

I guess I should have introduced myself first. My name is Sam Winchester, but so far the authorities call me the Whittler.


End file.
